This man didn’t deserve that explanation though. I didn’t know him. One day, I would have told Hayes. He’d have understood. At least, that was what I had told myself when the guilt of my lies taunted me.

  “Your disguise was a good one, but that ass?” He released a dark chuckle that made me shiver. “Any man who’s seen it bare would recognize it.”

  The dark part of my soul that I feared would always make me bad, no matter how hard I tried, flickered inside me. My body wanted him to like it. That was sick, and I knew it, but it didn’t matter to the demons I tried so hard to fight.

  “Don’t get me wrong; your stepmother is a horrible bitch. I get why you didn’t want to go home, but then if you hadn’t been fucking your married professor, then you wouldn’t have lost your scholarship,” Huck drawled.

  He was wrong there, but then telling him that was pointless. No one had believed me then, and this man sure wasn’t going to believe me now. I dropped my gaze to my lap and held my hands together, hoping this would end soon and I could go.

  “The cleaning business can’t pay as much as that fucking body of yours did. What was it, the guilt over lying to Hayes? He’s dead. You could have gone right back to the pole. More money. Less work.”

  No. I had hated every moment on that stage. I’d hated myself for doing it. When my dad had had his first heart attack, I’d gone home and sworn to myself I’d never do something like that again. If I had to work myself to death, doing shitty jobs, I would.

  Huck sat down on the table in front of me. His knees pressed against mine. When he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, and looked at me, I had to remember to breathe. Up close, it was hard to remember how dangerous he was. Those eyes of his were consuming.

  “The man you were working for is dead, but there are those who aren’t happy about it. You escaped that day while everyone else in that house was found with a bullet in them. They know by now that you were the fiancée of my brother. You’re a walking target. Your apartment has already been broken into and ransacked. There is little left of your things, but what is left is being brought here.” He paused and leaned closer to me. “The only way to keep you from being killed is for you to stay here. But you’re not getting a fucking vacation. You’ll cook for us and keep things clean. When we have people over, you’ll cook the food. You’ll fill drinks. You’ll do whatever we ask of you. So, what’s it gonna be?” He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Leave here and get yourself killed within the hour or stay?”

  Was this really a choice? I wanted to think he was lying about my apartment and being a target for some crazed drug gang or whatever they were. But I had seen him shoot a man in the head. These people didn’t joke about this kind of thing.

  It was clear he didn’t want me here, but he was doing this for Hayes. Maybe he was right, and Hayes wouldn’t have had anything to do with me if he’d known about my past. I didn’t mind cleaning, and I loved to cook. I was good at that.

  Huck cupped the side of my face roughly. “What’s it gonna be?”

  “I’ll—I will, uh … I’ll stay. I can clean and cook,” I stammered, feeling slightly off-balance with his face so close that I could smell the scent of spice and cigarette smoke. I didn’t care for cigarettes, but on Huck, it was different.

  “Can you cook?” he asked me.

  I nodded, then licked my lips. My mouth felt dry, and I had to squeeze my legs together to relieve the ache between them. Huck was a bad man, and I was turned on by him. Was it the evil in his gaze that I was drawn to? Tabitha would say it was.

  Huck slid a hand between my legs until they brushed the cotton fabric of my panties, and I gasped. That, I hadn’t expected. My eyes went wide, and my breathing quickened. He ran a finger over the fabric in a circular motion. Only my fingers had touched there. Having someone else do it was different. Having Huck Kingston do it was sinful, but I didn’t care.

  “That’s all it took, and your panties are wet,” he said in a husky whisper, then slipped a finger under the fabric and pushed it inside of me.

  I cried out from the shock and pleasure of it. That was very new. When I touched myself, I only rubbed my clit until I orgasmed. I had never stuck anything inside of me. I realized my mistake now. I should have tried this years ago.

  There was no longer disgust in his eyes, I realized. They were like two blue flames as he watched me. He looked on edge, as if he might bolt at any moment. He began to press his thick finger further into me.

  “Fucking hell, that’s a tight pussy,” he growled.

  I whimpered as he began to pump his finger in and out of me. My mouth fell open as I took short, fast breaths. I dropped my gaze to his hand between my legs.

  “Oh God,” I moaned.

  That was too much. Seeing his big hand inside my panties was something that fantasies were made of. I didn’t want this to ever stop.

  “Too fucking easy,” he said, jerking his hand away from me as if I had bitten him, and he stood up.

  His fingers wrapped around my arm tightly before hauling me up. When I was flush against him, he grabbed my waist and spun me around to face the sofa. His hand pressed against my back, forcing me forward. I placed my hands on the back of the sofa before I face-planted on it. I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing, but he shoved the T-shirt I was wearing halfway up my back, then grabbed my panties and ripped them off my body.

  There were so many things going on at once, and I was battling to figure out which one I should be feeling. Excitement, arousal, fear, or were all of them at once acceptable too?

  His hand landed on my left butt cheek with a loud smack, causing me to cry out from the pain. “Spread ’em,” he barked at me.

  He grabbed my butt cheeks with his hands. “Fucking hell,” he said in a hoarse whisper that I felt all the way to my clit.

  The arousal was definitely winning in my swarm of emotions. No man had ever touched me like this. I was having a morning of firsts, and so far, they were all something I wanted to do again. Many times.

  The heat from Huck’s breath caressed my throbbing clit. His face was between my thighs. I should probably be embarrassed, but his tongue ran along the sensitive folds, and my knees buckled. I cried out as I gripped the back of the sofa harder. The room was spinning.

  “Damn, you taste sweet,” he growled.

  His hands continued to squeeze my butt cheeks as he buried his tongue inside of me. This was bad. I shouldn’t just be letting this happen, yet I wasn’t sure I could stop it even if I wanted to. Nothing had ever felt this incredible.

  Another slap to my bottom, and I cried out in shock, pain, or was it pleasure? I didn’t know the difference anymore. A long, thick finger slid inside of me, and I began to pant.

  “That’s a tight pussy for a slut,” he said, plunging it into me. “No man’s had this cunt in a while.”

  Unable to control my body, I moaned and rocked against his hand. No man had ever had my cunt. His fingers were the first ones to be inside of it. I should tell him this in case he planned on putting his penis in me. But I was afraid he’d stop, and I wanted more. The build inside of me as I drew closer to my release was stronger than anything I’d ever managed to do to myself. I wanted to know what that felt like. I was having to bite my bottom lip to keep from pleading with him to get me there. The throb between my legs was verging on painful as I began to pant.

  Before I could spiral out of control, his hand was gone. There was nothing there but cold air.

  “No!” My voice sounded as desperate as I felt.

  I held myself like that, with my body trembling from the lack of fulfillment as Huck walked away. I watched as he turned the corner. He didn’t look back once.

  When I heard the door slam at the top of the stairs, I sank down onto the floor and curled my body up into a tight ball. Slowly, I began to rock, but no tears came. They never did. Not anymore. I banged my forehead on my knees, wishing I could be anyone else.

  Hating myself was a plague that I was finding out didn’t go away. The truth was, Hayes wouldn’t have married me. Even if he had lived. Because eventually, he’d have seen the evil in me too. The girl that was impossible to love. How could I expect someone to truly care for me when I hated myself?

  Eight

  Trinity

  One Year Ago

  No one wanted me here. Not even my father. Even after he’d almost died of a heart attack, he hadn’t cared that I’d come home. For him. To help Tabitha, who hated me, take care of him. This stupid church that Tabitha loved so much had been brutal to sit through. Hearing the minister preach about how hidden sins would find you out.

  Well, I sure as hell hoped not because my father would have another heart attack.

  Rolling my eyes, I jerked the door handle on my car harder than necessary, wishing I’d just stayed in Georgia. Perhaps I should just go somewhere else. Find a new place to move to. Start a new life. Tabitha had said Roy and his wife, Anita, were coming for a visit next week. I hadn’t seen him in four years. I’d not gone to his wedding. I refused to be anywhere he was going to be. If he was coming, then I was leaving.

  “Excuse me. Trinity, right?”

  A male voice startled me, and I spun around to see the man who had spoken before the minister this morning. He looked to be about my age. I wasn’t blind. This man was nice to look at, but he was also a minister of sorts. He was probably coming to save my black soul. I forced a smile and hoped that Tabitha was not out in the parking lot yet, seeing this. I’d come to this church because my father had asked me to. When I was growing up, Tabitha wouldn’t bring me to church with her. She would tell me that those with demons in them weren’t allowed inside the doors. Why my father had thought I should attend church now, I had no idea.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  His grin spread, making a dimple appear in his left cheek. Okay, so he was handsome and had a dimple. He still loved the Lord and all. Not for me.

  “I was, uh, well, I noticed you this morning, and I asked around.”

  He looked unsure of himself. That wasn’t expected. I said nothing, curious as to what this was about. He cleared his throat and looked down, then back up at me through his ridiculously long lashes.

  “Sorry. I’m not normally so bad at this. You make me nervous,” he explained. “Would you like to go have coffee? Or lunch maybe?”

  That was not what I had guessed this was about. I opened my mouth and closed it.

  Was this him asking me out? Or had Tabitha told him I was a sinner, bound for eternal damnation, and he was going to try to save my soul?

  He ran a hand through his hair and lightly chuckled. “I’m Hayes Kingston. My grandfather is the minister here. I swear I’m not as crazy as it currently seems.”

  Wow. The minister’s grandson. I wondered if the man knew his grandson was asking me to coffee. I glanced around the parking lot and immediately saw Tabitha glaring at me. I was speaking to her beloved minister’s grandson. She wasn’t happy about it. I was sure to shame her by simply breathing.

  Snapping my gaze back to the man standing in front of me, I smiled brightly. “I’d like that,” I told him.

  When he smiled this time, his eyes twinkled with excitement, and I felt a little flutter in my chest. Hayes Kingston was very good-looking, I realized. This would probably be a one-time thing. Tabitha would be sure to bash my name the moment she could. He’d never want to see me again. For now, I’d enjoy a meal with a handsome man who I made nervous. While also making Tabitha furious.

  Present Day

  Eventually, I was able to get myself together, get up from my pathetic breakdown on the floor, and go to the bathroom. A long, hot shower, cleansing myself from the ugliness that I had accepted and even embraced, helped me clear my head even if it didn’t do anything for the pain that was a part of me. When I exited the bathroom, I saw food had been delivered, but I had no appetite. Forcing myself to eat would only make me sick. I’d tried that in the past.

  I curled up on the sofa to watch mindless television shows. Sitcoms where family life was entertaining and all was well at the end of the thirty minutes it took to air. I didn’t know how long I’d sat there, nor did I care what time it was when I heard the footsteps on the stairs once again. The sound caused a sick knot in my stomach, and my eyes shifted to the food I hadn’t touched.

  Would I be forced to eat? It wouldn’t be the first time.

  Tabitha had caught me sneaking a handful of chips from the pantry once. She then forced me to eat the entire bag and then another until I threw up. Then, she’d given me a spoon and stood over me with a long, thin hickory switch, snapping it across my back until I ate my vomit. To this day, I couldn’t eat plain potato chips.

  I fisted my hands in my lap. I wasn’t a child anymore, and physical and emotional pain were things I had learned to survive. Huck was a large man, and as much as I disgusted him, I didn’t believe he would hurt me physically. But then I had been wrong about so many things in life.

  My eyes stayed trained on the television show I had been watching. I had no idea what the name of it was, but that didn’t matter. It kept my thoughts preoccupied.

  “You didn’t eat.”

  His deep voice made me tense.

  I would not let this man do any more damage. He had no idea the level of suffering I could endure.

  I shrugged. “I didn’t have an appetite.” My eyes never left the television.

  Silence. I fought against counting the seconds that ticked by. If the man lunged at me and strangled me to death or began hitting me, then perhaps death was something I could embrace. End this life I’d been given.

  “Get up. Get your things.”

  He liked to order me around. Perhaps if I were a stronger woman who had a backbone, I would stand up to him. See how he liked being told no. But I’d been beaten down long before I met Huck Kingston.

  Standing, I walked over and picked up the few things that I could call mine, then turned to look at him. He was scowling, as if being down here this close to me was his own form of punishment. I wished I didn’t care. Perhaps it was the way he frowned or the way his eyes were set in his head. It reminded me of Hayes. The only person in my life to not see my faults. The only male to ever make me feel special.

  “Is that it?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Follow me.”

  He turned and started toward the steps. Was I being moved to a room now so I could cook and clean, or was I being sent home to possibly be murdered? At least I wasn’t being left locked up in his basement. If he sent me away, I might possibly survive long enough to leave the state, change my appearance, but then all of that took money. I wasn’t sure my car could get me that far at the moment.

  Panic slowly began to trickle in, and I focused on my breathing as I followed Huck up the stairs. Either option was terrifying.

  No … no … stop! I wasn’t going to fall apart in front of this man. If I didn’t live to see another sunrise, then so be it. But I would not let this man see me crack. He wouldn’t get the satisfaction.

  At the top of the stairs, he turned left, and I followed him. We turned to go up another flight of stairs. That was my answer. I was to stay and be the housekeeper and cook. The panic clawing at my chest eased some.

  The new set of stairs was impressive, wide and curved. A chandelier hung overhead, and I realized I’d never seen this part of the house. It was open with windows and light pouring in everywhere. This wouldn’t be bad. I could do this.

  Huck stopped at the top of the stairs, then barely glanced back at me before pointing toward the wide hallway. “The third door on your right. You’ll stay there. We will expect breakfast at seven thirty every morning, we aren’t here for lunch, and you’ll be notified if we will require dinner. Keep a list of items you need from the grocery store, and that will be handled. Every room needs to be thoroughly cleaned each week. The rooms that are occupied, you will straighten and clean daily. Don’t leave the house without permission. You can’t be without protection.” Huck spoke as if this were something we’d already discussed.

  When I said nothing and only nodded, he glared at me.

  “If you don’t want to die, you’ll refrain from stealing shit,” he snapped. “Do your job and stay out of the way otherwise.”

  I wasn’t a thief, but explaining what he’d seen on my background check wasn’t something he wanted. He believed what he wanted to about me. Most people did. I wasn’t going to lose sleep over that.

  I managed a nod, took my things, and walked past him toward the third door on the right. For now, I was safe, out of the dungeon, and no one was going to starve me or force me to vomit. This wasn’t living free, but it was living. I would just be thankful for that.

  Nine

  Ten Months Ago

  Hayes’s hand held mine tightly as we left my father’s gravesite. Everyone else had already gone. Including Tabitha. I hadn’t been able to move from that spot, looking down where they had lowered his casket into the ground. It was so strange that my heart ached like it did.

  Not once in my life had I felt like my father loved me. He was never my safe place. I’d never had a safe place. Yet, now, we would never get that chance to have a relationship. There would be no apologies. We wouldn’t hug each other and say I love you. Knowing that left a hole in my heart. He was the only parent I had ever known, and he hadn’t loved me.

  Growing up with that knowledge had twisted and shaped me into the person I was today. If your own parent couldn’t love you, then could anyone?